


Reciprocity

by whotfismonica



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: #bottommarkus2k20, #bottommarkusgang, Boys In Love, Cuddling & Snuggling, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Mush, Hate to Love, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Scents & Smells, Tags Are Hard, hi guys, i guess, meaning i suck at writing hurt/comfort, sorta - Freeform, violent markus - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23195185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whotfismonica/pseuds/whotfismonica
Summary: Connor ignores the urges to pull away, to say something, but he can’t find the words lest he ruins this moment and possibly any other interaction between them. This is their make or break moment to the raggedy bridge between them and Connor knows how fast things can get ruined.orrrmarkus and connor "hate" each other and had bad days. they comfort each other. it's real gay.
Relationships: Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 78





	Reciprocity

**Author's Note:**

> social distancing tings only. ik y'all gon look at this and be like, "lol, monica, no one's looking for dbh fanfics anymore" then give me another fandom, nerd. also i use the word "interface" because i literally can't remember the word for the thing markus and north do. the hand thing, y'all know the thing.
> 
> from this prompt: standing quietly in the kitchen after long, exhausting days, leaning into each other for support, breathing in the smell of home, fingers carding through hair and stroking down spines, until they feel like they can relax and smile properly again

Connor never thought he would find this to be a safe haven. He wanders into Jericho straight from work ready to sink into one of the pews and forget about the day in its entirety before he spotted Markus sitting on the counter in the kitchen of the church Jericho calls home, head ducked down and shoulders tensed. No one notices him walking through the pews, or doesn't speak if they do. He joins him quietly, not thinking before he pulls the taller man in his embrace and laying his head on his shoulder. It takes a minute for the deviant leader to even register his presence but he doesn’t push him away, instead cuddling close and reaching up to wrap his arms around his shoulders. The RK200’s breathing slows down enough for Connor to catch on and follow: 4-7-8, 4-7-8, 4-7-8...

He melts further into the older prototype after a few minutes, content to not speak and just wonder if Markus’ caretaking protocols are what’s making him be so nice to him. They’re not particularly fond of each other, so Connor not coming out of this with an immediate injury is a surprise. He doesn’t wish it upon him, but if Markus had too bad of a day to be snarky, so be it. It sounds selfish but he’s glad to find someone who’s had such a bad day as he did. He takes another chance and traces his hands up Markus’ back, following his spine, and sighs in relief when he gets a little groan in response. He shifts and does it again, hands slipping under his shirt, and the hand at the back of his neck tightens as a shiver fights its way through the older deviant. It’s an enticing offer (and an interesting stress relief, the detective having to bring in his thoughts from murkier waters) but Connor just leaves his hand in the middle, leaving another option open even if Markus doesn’t take it. He traces over the skin in the meantime and idly wonders if it’s freckles there too. He lets Markus think, not having to see Markus’ face to know that he’s weighing his options. Interfacing is private and Connor doubts the deviant leader trusts him enough for it. 

A wave of frustration hits him like a slap to the face. Connor flinches minutely but doesn’t move enough to tear himself away from the warmth of the older man. He barely has enough time to recover before a current of sadness sweeps him up and sends him reeling. He hears Markus making little whining noises in the back of his throat and has half a mind to respond, sending comfort through his touch. It’s enough for Markus to relax again, his current situation being put out in the open. Humans being humans and a meeting about simple production rights going completely wrong. The deviant leader has a short fuse so the first “you things” had him fuming with the intent to kill. 

Connor sits up after seeing the whole thing, just to look him in the face, and meets his eyes as his own frustration floats through. It’s been two years since Markus’ revolution and this case felt like a punch to the gut. Someone set their cleaning android on fire with no real evidence of deviancy besides word of mouth. This wouldn’t have gotten under the detective’s skin if he was still a machine but he’s not. He’s alive, in more ways than he thought possible. He lets Markus process the situation before laying his head back on his shoulder, leaving him in shock from the feeling of gratitude he’s being given. Markus pulls him desperately close, stubble scratching against the younger man’s cheek as he nuzzles against him like he’s trying to scent him. Connor wouldn’t mind being surrounded by the spicy scent of cinnamon for however long Markus would allow him, but the action is weird.

They settle back together, Markus playing in his hair, and faux skin still pulled back on the deviant leader’s back and the detective’s hand. It’s been quiet between them, solacement floating around them thick enough to suffocate anyone else. They’re in their own little peaceful bubble, at ease with each other just being there. Connor ignores the urges to pull away, to say something, but he can’t find the words lest he ruins this moment and possibly any other interaction between them. This is their make or break moment to the raggedy bridge between them and Connor knows how fast things can get ruined. Markus ends their connection and the RK800 takes it as a means to pull back and end their cuddling but the deviant leader doesn’t allow it, clinging to his shoulders once he’s pulled away enough to sit up. They meet each other’s eyes, warm molten brown getting lost in a sea of green and blue, before Markus tilts his head and leans in closer. The detective meets him without a second’s pause to think about it, holding him close and bravely pressing closer, but Markus keeps it soft. It’s softer than anything the detective’s ever expected, but he’s learnt to not have expectations anymore with Markus. 

They kiss for what feels like forever, mouths working together slowly. At base level, it’s nothing more than comforting but Connor overthinks whatever his mind can get its hands on. Markus pulls back after days, flushed blue down to his neck and gaze hazy. The detective meets his stare, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. It’s a silent confession for the both of them. The older prototype makes a face as he considers if he’s done before pulling the RK800 into another kiss, deeper this time. He licks his way into Connor’s mouth exploringly, who finds himself more pliant than he would’ve ever thought, leisurely helping. He presses the taller against the counter to box him in, fighting for dominance in another way. Markus pulls away with an amused huff, lips swollen from kissing and blue blush bleeding down even further. Connor’s curious as to how far but he doesn’t want to push...whatever this is. There’s a too hot cheek pressed against his own and Markus chitters a bit, little android noises that Connor likes. Too long lashes flutter against the detective’s cheek when his partner’s eyes close and Markus is back to nuzzling him like a goddamn cat. Hands are gripping his shirt like he’s planning on running away and he doesn’t know how to alleviate it so he just allows it. 

It feels like a miracle when Markus lets him out of his embrace, arms falling from where they’re looped around his neck. Connor finds himself back in reality, but the fuzziness is still there. They’re still at peace but the detective, ever so curious, has to cut through the silence with the sharp edge of a question:

“What was that?” 

Markus shakes his head, “Mh-mh, shh, no.”

Connor thought he was officially over getting bossed around but that made him grip the table behind him to keep himself upright. Markus reaches for him again and he goes willingly, a bit like he’s under a spell, “We’ll talk about it if you stay tonight. I’m not going to force you. I could live my 1000th year not curious as to why we made out here.” 

It’s an eloquent lie that gives the detective the illusion of choice because he  _ knows  _ Connor’s going to bite. He couldn’t go the next hour without knowing, “I’ll stay. Here?”

“Considering we probably won’t be sleeping, yes,” the RK800 flushes at that and Markus smirks, “that’s not what I meant, but I’m not opposed. You’re a good kisser. Was I your first one?” 

“No,” Connor shakes his head when he sees a curious eyebrow raise, “don’t ask.”

“You’re gonna tell me eventually,” the older prototype slides off of the counter and walks out, Connor following him like an eager puppy. He just barely misses the way it makes Markus bite back a smile. 

**Author's Note:**

> don't go outside, instead read this multiple times and make multiple accounts and leave several kudos and comments. like multiple. why go outside and risk yourself when you could read this fic and follow the aforementioned steps. also the breathing technique in the beginning is your typical breathe in four seconds, hold it for seven, release it for eight.


End file.
